High Tide
by Commander Of Brontdor
Summary: A written perspective of the famous, highly unorthidox for 1954 kissing scene in the film "On The Waterfront" with Marlon Brando and Eva Marie Saint; detail of emotions from Edie Doyle's PoV.


What follows is a scene directly from _On The Waterfront_, all dialogue and actions are copied from this scene. I do _not_ own _On The Waterfront_ or any of its characters, plots, scenes and/or dialogue. Please do _not_ sue me, as I am a teenager have no permanent source of income. Not much chance of it happening, but I'd feel such a fool if it did.

His thick native accent boomed through the thin door. She raised her head as soon as she heard it; desperate and yearning as he pleaded her name "Edie… Edie..?"

She loved him. His voice drowned the violent thoughts she was mentally assigning him and released the outpour of tenderness and adoration she harboured. She swung out of bed and approached the door; her angst rising with each cry of her name

"Stay _away_ from me!" she demanded, slamming the chains inside their locks. "Edie, open the door, _please_!"

She snapped shut the temptation of opening the door, snatching her hand away from the doorknob and redirected it toward the light switch, clicking it off and sprinting back to her bed, snatching the covers to her chest.

The sharp, short, powerful crack that swung the door open on its hinges struck down the noise of his cries. Despite the force of his entry and the angry desperation weighing his darkened brow, Edie never experienced any threat or fear of him; he would never hurt her.

"I want you to stay away from me" she repeated clearly. Approaching, he barked "I don't know what you want me to do, but I ain't gonna do it, so forget it!"

She sprang from the bed again to the dresser, grabbing the hairbrush without any real plan as to what to do with it "I don't want you to do anything; you let your conscience decide – "

Sincere madness and torment widened his eyes when he cut her off "shut up about that conscience, that's all I've been hearin'!"

He began to stride purposefully and determinedly toward her "I've never mentioned the word before, you just stay away from me!" she cried, backing away down the tiny hallway. "Edie" he called. His tone was free of the fury at his situation; he spoke with clarity and surety as he said "Edie, you love me".

An inward sigh dropped from her heart to her toes with a power and drop which seemed to repel her speedily towards him again; this truth she could not deny; it would be against god and herself.

"I didn't say I didn't love you, I said _stay away from me_" with that she swiped at him with the hairbrush with more frustration than a need to have him away from her, only to have him catch her wrist and say gently to her "I want you to stay with me"

Such vulnerability stripped his voice to a whispery echo as she felt her resistance to him slide from under her. A burst of impulse lead her to allow him to circle his arms around her while the last faltering sparks of fury fizzed to nothingness as he pressed his lips against hers.

With the entrance of his tongue, her veins seemed to diffuse and soak her body entirely in a scorching, rippling heat; all of science, convention, law and matter were swiftly swayed to ashes. All that existed was what was registered by their blind senses; his work-hardened, rough fingers in her hair, the wet warmth of his mouth and the love that plunged his tongue deeper and slower into her.

Their kiss broke, but the gentle warmth of his body stayed snugly in her arms. He seemed entranced; his eyes closed and his lips parted; dazed she felt the final, wonderful confession of her love for him lap at her throat, spilling out of her as she muttered "Terry…"

However, the sight of his eyes opening allowed her a fleeting glimpse of the helpless need for her in them. Her three final, glorious words were halted as he uttered a soft, insistent moan and crushed his mouth once more to hers.

The resurgence of heat clawed at her senses with red, sinking talons; the soft moisture of his tongue seemed to entice an urge deep in her centre which bore its origins from a time of dark, primal animalism in which no religion or order of humanity existed. She freely welcomed it.

A distant, wailing call dragged her back to the cool New York night breeze from the window; the broken, thick accented murmur of other inhabitants of the neighbourhood and the soft coos of urban pigeons "Terryyyyyyy…".

The cry from below slowly lifted Terry's eyelids, confusion drifting in them

"Terry, you're brother's down here, he wants ta see ya!" the stranger screamed

With this, he nodded out of his haze, concern pressing his features into a worried frown "Charlie…" he said, carefully inching his arms from Edie's waist and running to the window


End file.
